


Fever

by AnonymityisCrucial



Series: Whumptober 2018 [8]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bad Guy of the Week - Freeform, Basically a bad time for Mac, Chills, Fever, Gen, He sick, headache, mentions of vomit, that's about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 07:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17320460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymityisCrucial/pseuds/AnonymityisCrucial
Summary: Day 8: FeverIt was just a cold: minor cough, stuffy nose, chills. Just a little cold, so he went on the mission. Unfortunately, for Macgyver, nothing is ever as simple as it seems. His fever worsens and worsens until his body finally gives out.





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm a horrible person. It's 2019 and I'm still only on day 8 of Whumptober, whoops. I'm trying, honest, slowly but surely and all that jazz. Sorry for the summary as well, it ain't my best work.
> 
> Also, this ain't proof read, none of my stories are proof read. Who needs to proof read, we die like men.

He probably shouldn’t have gone into the Phoenix while he was sick, but what was a little cold when the world continuously needed saving? Sure he felt like shit, chills, cough, stuffy nose, the works, but more were worse off and in need of his help, so he was going to work as long as he could, no matter how out of it he felt.

“Woah, dude, you look terrible!” Mac rolled his eyes, sniffing slightly.

“Thanks Boz, I needed that,” he replied, plopping down into a chair, suppressing a shiver even though it was seventy degrees in the room and he was already wearing a shirt, flannel, and his jacket. God did he hate being sick.

“Hey bud, you ain’t lookin’ too good. Why don’t you sit this one out, pretty sure we can handle one little mission ourselves, ain’t that right Matty,” Jack said, wandering over to stand by Mac, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. An emotion that Mac could only deem concern crossed Matty’s face for a second before it was replaced by a hardened look that they all knew well.

“I wish that were the case, but unfortunately, we’re going to needs Mac’s knowledge for this one. Think you’re up for it Blondie?”

“No problem. What’s the mission?” Mac sniffed, not able to suppress another shiver, causing Jack to give him his patented look of concern, and even though the blond wasn’t looking at the man, he could feel the older man’s gaze boring into him.

“Meet Francis Hansler, a German engineer who specializes in military ordnances, specifically bombs, hence why we need Mac on this one. Over the years, he has created bombs that have stumped EOD’s and other bomb makers alike. He hasn’t come up on anyone’s radar until now because of the wide scatterings of his work. Hansler’s knowledge paired with access to the right tools and the wrong people equals a massive disaster. Recently, there have been five explosions, each in fairly well known areas, but there haven’t been enough casualties, nor were the areas well enough known to get much attention from the media so most are unaware of what is happening. We know because of an anonymous tip that was placed with the CIA, who then contacted us. You are going to go to his last known location and try to find anything that could aid us in capturing him. Currently, all we know is that he is rumored to be working with an underground organization that is working towards being known, but only through the deaths of thousands.”

“We’ll be on our way.” With that, everyone got up to leave, Mac slowly getting himself up and turning to leave, Jack waiting patiently at the door just in case.

“Oh and Mac?”

“Yeah Matty?”

“Try to stay close to the ground and let the others do all of the heavy lifting. I don’t want my best operative to collapse on me now would I?” Matty questioned, a soft smile on her face, which Mac returned.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. It’s just a little cold. Plus, I’ve got Jack; he’s the muscles and I’m the brains remember?”

“Stay safe out there Blondie.”

“Since when is what we do safe?”

\-------------

Needless to say, the mission was not easy nor safe. Hansler, as it turned out, had rigged his apartment to blow, but not in a typical, kick-the-door-down-and-kaboom kind of way, but in a strategic and impressive way that had even Mac struggling to disarm before it blew. Granted, he was a bit off his game, and it didn’t help that the room kept feeling like it was slowly dropping in degrees and his vision was occasionally blurring, but he got the job done, like he said he would.

As it turned out, Hansler wasn’t even there, which was expected because since when did any criminal/terrorist/person-they-were-hunting stay where they were told the person’d be? Rarely, and even then, they always run. Mac was really glad there was no running and he only had to defuse a fairly sophisticated bomb. He was not in the mood for physical activity beyond what was necessary.

They had found some papers and schematics that told them all they needed to know, which was why they ended up in, you guessed it, an abandoned warehouse! If his head wasn’t killing him and he didn’t think that he’d end up hacking up a lung, he would have shaken his head and laughed at the predictability of it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot of time to dwell on it seeing as they were made fairly quickly because Mac started coughing violently and couldn’t do anything to stop it. Even after being dragged into a room and tied to a chair, his coughs were only slightly dying down and he could barely breathe. His chest hurt when he tried to catch his breath, and even though chills wracked his body, he could feel sweat beading on his forehead and making his shirt stick to his body.

Looking around, Mac noted he was alone in the room, tied to a chair, both torso and legs, which he discovered when he looked down, only after discovering that looking down was not a good idea and that it made his neck hurt. There was a metal door and the surrounding walls appeared to be concrete, but it was fairly dark so he couldn't really tell. All that he knew was that with the room as dark as it was, his eyes hurt less and his headache went from blinding to slightly less blinding. At least until the door was opened and light came into the room, briefly blinding Mac because his brain screamed at him in pain.

“Ah, you’re awake, wonderful. I bet you wish that you had stayed home with the way you were coughing earlier. Gave away your position and everything. We didn’t even have to work very hard on catching you either, seeing how incoherent you were, and still are slightly. You’re lucid enough, but a little while longer and you’ll be incredibly confused and wishing you hadn’t even come.”

“I may be delirious, but I think you mentioned me staying home twice,” Mac muttered, squinting in the light, head throbbing, and stomach churning like he was going to be sick. The man didn’t even dare get closer.

“I did, and I’m impressed that with how sick you are, you noticed. I’m impressed. You are extremely ill though, and you will only continue to get worse as time goes by. I almost feel bad for you, but then again, you were trying to bring down my operation, so I really don’t care. Have a good time wallowing in misery my friend.” With that, the door shut, and the light went away, causing Mac to let out a soft sigh in the minor relief that the decrease in stimulus brought. He was still definitely going to be sick though, and he promptly was, spilling his guts on the floor, groaning as his whole body ached. He was so damn tired and felt so, so very bad. He just wanted to go home, damn the world. Why couldn’t he have stayed home and rested? Why was it always him that needed to go and save the world? There were others just as or more qualified than him.

He wasn’t sure how long he was in the room, but he was pretty sure he occasionally slipped out of consciousness and then back in, and cycled between on repeat for a while. The guy was right, he was getting worse. His head was throbbing and he’d break out into harsh coughing fits that left him wanting to cry because of how much it hurt, which only made his head hurt worse, which made him throw up once more, which made him hurt more, and another cycle occurred, though with only dry heaving since there was nothing left. He really hoped that Jack showed up soon because he really, really, really wanted to go home and sleep for a few millennia. Sleep sounded really good in that moment, and Mac felt his eyes slowly drift shut and he passed out.

When he woke up, he was in the medbay back at the Phoenix. How, he wasn’t sure, but he was pretty thankful because his head only hurt a little bit and he felt warmer than he had in a while. He turned his head to the side to see Jack seated in a nearby chair, dead to the world. Mac smiled, letting out an amused huff, before reaching out a hand and gently smacking the man, who immediately startled awake and went for his gun. He didn’t pull it, thankfully, because he saw that it was merely Mac that attacked him and they weren’t in danger anymore.

“Mac! You’re awake! The doc said you’d wake up soon, but I didn’t realize how soon. How’re you feeling? You doing alright? Head feelin’ a bit better?”

“Yeah, thank you,” Mac rasped, throat scratchy from vomiting and coughing so much. Ugh, he really hated being sick.

“Nah man, none of us should have let you come on the mission. Even Matty regretted telling you you needed to go. We all know you’d never refuse helping out, but we should’ve not let you come to help you out. Man, you’re fever was 105°F! That’s insane! Why did you tell me you were feeling so shitty?”

“At the time I wasn’t.”

“But it kept getting worse and you still didn’t tell me.”

“There were more important things at stake, Jack.”

“Yeah, well, your health is important to. You still could’ve assisted, but away from the whole mess. Instead, you gave away our location by having a coughing fit so violent I actually thought you’d cough up a lung, even though you’ve told me multiple times that it isn’t actually possible to do so. Then you got yourself locked in a tiny ass room that felt like a sauna when I finally got there and found you passed out looking near death. You’re lucky that I managed to get to you when I did. You scared me man, I thought you were gonna die on me.”

“Jack, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it was until it was too late to do anything about it. I’m fine now though. Did we get them? Hansler and his schematics, and the rest of the organization?”

“We got Hansler, destroyed his schematics, and brought in a few highly skilled bomb techs to dismantle the already built ones since our best was unconscious and being brought to the nearest hospital so that your fever could be reduced. You were out of your mind man, yammering on about nonsensical things, probably rambling in science too for all I know. Maybe just science, or just nonsense, who knows.”

“I shouldn’t have made you guys worry about me.”

“You’re damn right you shouldn’t’ve, but you’re fine now and going to make a full recovery according to the doc. Next time you’re feeling like shit, tell me, or Boz, or Riley. Hell, tell Matty or anyone. And don’t try disarming bombs with a fever as high as yours probably was when you did. Don’t even try to bullshit your way out of that one; I can sense your bs from a mile away.” Mac chuckled, which turned into a minor coughing fit, causing Jack to wince. “Alright bud, time for you to get some more rest.”

“But-”

“Don’t you dare tell me you aren’t exhausted. I can see your eyes closing.” Mac blinked a few times, realizing his eyelids were slowly slipping shut against his will. It worked for a few seconds, but then they just started to do it all over again, so he gave in. The last thing he heard before falling asleep was Jack.

“I’ll be right here the whole time.”


End file.
